It’s been a while…

I’ve all but shuttered the Rhetorical Gamer. The fact that I haven’t posted since March should have probably have been enough but as I’ve been incredibly critical of Wizards of the Coast for their (seemingly), “We’ll just let it quietly disappear” approach to D&D Attack Wing, I suppose I should write something by way of explanation.

I loved writing this blog. For the first three years it was a great outlet. I met a few cool people, got some decent feedback, and wrote what I wanted because I wasn’t concerned with building traffic or generating revenue. It was a good feeling.

The breaks started to happen when I didn’t have any active game going on. And that happened quite a bit for a while. I wasn’t creating anything because I wasn’t playing anything (or running anything). I haven’t really been much of an active gamer at all lately. 2016 has had some gaming high points, including a surprise trip to GenCon.

But I don’t really have anything to say… I’m done with edition wars and controversy. I don’t care about the latest gaming celebrity dust up. The whole “fake geek girl” thing and all its associated baggage is a horrible stain on our culture that I don’t have any insightful way to address. Reviews have never been my style. Breaking News(!) is a suckers game. In other words… other than my personal ruminations on a couple of games… what else is there? Not to mention that there are a 1.2 million places to get, “random guy ruminates about games” on the web and having taken a few of them in myself I worry, “Oh my god… Do I sound like that?”

I play a lot of Fallout 4. I’m getting into Malifaux. A friend has been running a delightful ICONS game. Maybe at some point I will have something more to say or create or add to the conversation. And I’m not taking my page down because all my downloads are still here in one nice, convenient location.

I manage to stay consistent with YouTube, but over the last year the written blog has had its phases. There are some things I prefer to put into the written word. One thing that RPGaDay showed me this year was just how many new blogs there are, but sadly just how many have faded away.

When it stops being fun, it stops being irresistible. I quite liked your thoughtful analysis and fancied that we had a great many similarities in game outlook. I have noticed other RPG blogs with a viewpoint I agree with disappear. I tire from always repeating myself, only to be sealioned in hindsight for sport. It’s a turn off. It’s a turn off when the hobby appears (as it does during those instances) to be so unwelcoming and rigid. I hate writing term papers just to express my personal thoughts on my leisure time activity. It is work. And, you know, NetFlicks is not work. Mowing the lawn is constructive. Edition Wars and sealioning victimization are neither fun nor a constructive use of my time.

Still I miss RG. Why? Because RG is a vicarious connection to a hobby I remember was once extremely enjoyable and as intimate an experience as sex. I could game for 12 or more hours with other people, male or female there was no gender in the room during play, who were empathic to me in-game as well as out of game. Through it I made friends, spit-balled perspectives and learned, and shared my own worldview outside of those threatening moments when spontaneity demands a vigorous and entrenched defense. It was a great big discussion of “what if” – what if we were surrounded by orcs, what if we had to make a sacrifice, what if we had to solve a mystery; and, what if we were friends in real life. I have come to the conclusion that people new to the hobby and kids are the most open to that style and, at 50, that causes me anguish when I consider seeking a group my age.

I’d rather just watch porn for hours to be honest. Or The Room. The worst that can happen in either of those examples is boredom. It would never become like work. This is a bold challenge the RPGs hobby habitually avoids addressing as blogs, podcasts, outlets, and players all disappear like a slow leak. Mike Tresca is piloting that stream now with his articles on a “professional hobby” and I cannot help but to feel his days in the hobby are coming to and end as well – not immediately but gradually and with certainly.

So I can empathize with you, Mike. Don’t shutter the blog though. It gives guys like me a little hope, like visiting the old neighbourhood. To borrow from Larry Niven, the magic may return.